


An Arrow to the Heart

by lunaseemoony



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Romance, UST
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2018-04-05 21:02:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4194768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunaseemoony/pseuds/lunaseemoony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rose gets a lot more than she might have ever asked for when the Doctor teaches her how to use a bow and arrows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Arrow to the Heart

 

When Rose called her mum to tell her about all the adventures she'd been on since their last conversation, the little moments between the grand ones often slipped through the cracks. They were left out of her diary entries as well. She kept them to herself, clutching them close as she buried herself beneath the covers in her TARDIS bedroom. This was because the little moments she remembered most vividly involved _him_. She didn't need to write them down to recall them. They were weaved into her memories, an intricate tapestry of embraces, smiles, inside jokes, and held hands that blanketed her mind every night as she struggled to sleep.

The Doctor was curled up next to Rose on a little blanket beneath the stars when she was replaying the most recent addition to these precious memories in her mind. Of course, sharing the little blanket with her unconscious Time Lord's arm draped across her stomach was one to remember in and of itself. But the moment they shared that Rose was certain paved the way for this one was what kept her awake that night.

They were in a little marketplace gathering supplies for a camping trip Rose begged the Doctor to take her on. And while he perused a stall for groceries, Rose was looking at weaponry across the street. Of course she knew how he felt about weapons. She never intended to _use_ one. But there was an archery range right there, and it was calling to her. She'd never fired a bow before. And as long as she had no intentions of hurting anyone with it, that was alright, she thought.

Rose assured the shopkeeper that she knew what she was doing. She was self sufficient. Or at least she thought she could teach herself. It took her at least ten minutes just to figure out how to string the bow. And when the shopkeeper came to help her she told him it had been a while. Why swallow her pride when it was so much easier to make a fool of herself? Shooting was a whole other story, one she wasn't about to tell.

“You're going to break that bow, you know,” the Doctor popped up behind her, rocking on his red trainers.

Rose loosed an arrow that landed three targets over, after having nearly let it slip through her fingers. She shot up, curling the tips of her feet into the sand to keep from jumping.

“The poundage on that bow is too light for you. You'll break the limbs before long. You'll want a long bow,” the Doctor added, canting his head a little as he pushed his black rimmed specs onto his freckled nose.

He rocked on his feet for another moment, hands shoved into his pinstriped pockets as he studied her before nodding and hopping off to the weapons stall. He reappeared a moment later clasping a strung bow that was almost as tall as she was. He plucked the little bow from her fingers and thrust it at the shopkeeper behind him.

“Now, people on _your_ planet liked to reinvent the bow, adding the recurve, fiberoptics, all kinds of fancy pulleys, sights you don't need, eventually lasers,” the Doctor mumbled as he placed the bow in her hands and stepped away.

“Thought you don't like weapons,” Rose accused as she turned her head back to look at him.

“I don't like to hurt people with them. Doesn't mean I don't know how to use them. Quite the marksman in my day, I was, good ole' me. Think I had curly hair last time I even touched a bow. Maybe.” He nodded to the target ahead of them. “I personally like the simpler ones, like this one. Try it.”

Rose positioned herself on the line again and picked up an arrow. She felt her elbow wiggling as she struggled to pull back the string even a little. In the end, she lost control and let the string loose before she could aim, sending the arrow whizzing only a few feet in front of her before it planted itself in the ground.

“You're sure about this, Doctor?” Rose heaved a little and threw her arms down.

The Doctor grinned and approached her. “You're a lot stronger than you think, Rose. When you first started traveling with me, you might have done well with that little 25 pound bow,” he whispered as he made himself flush with her back and brought up her arms. “This one's twice the draw strength, and you can more than handle it. You just need a bit of instructing, is all.”

Rose scarcely saw it as she craned her neck to look up at him, but she definitely _felt_ his humming grin against the lip of her ear. Though she wore a thin spaghetti strap top that day because they found themselves wading through a sweltering sauna of a marketplace, she was glad for the choice when the Doctor's hands crept onto her bare arms. They were so much cooler, as if he'd dipped them in ice water before their clammy palms brushed her sticky skin, blanketing her arms in a thin sheet of gooseflesh as he stabilized them.

“Elbow down,” he whispered. His breath was always warm, even more so as it kissed her temple. His other hand crawled down her arm, sending a shiver rocketing down her spine and straightening it. “You think you want a tight grip on your bow hand,” he added, cupping her hand in his, “but you'll want to loosen it a little. Pretend the bow is an extension of your arm.”

There was no hiding the breath she gulped down as his nose brushed the nape of her bare neck as he looked down. If he noticed he didn't give any indication. He'd sucked all of the words right from her dry lips with his wandering hands. Oh, she wanted to joke and call him cheeky as one hand moved in a slow path from her elbow down to her ribs and finally to her hip. But she became too lost in the moment, closing her eyes and letting her skin tingle beneath his dancing fingers before they cupped her hip. His hand could stay there, she decided. It felt right guiding her, as if the Doctor was leading them in a slow dance that Rose was all too eager to become lost in. She didn't want the song to end.

“A little secret? Sure, you aim with your eyes, but your arm will naturally want to follow where your hips are going. See that arrow all the way to the left over there? That's where your waist was aimed. Keep it straight, one line from your head to your toes, and your arrow will always go where you want it to. Horizontally, at least,” he whispered right into her ear.

Rose might have turned around and seen her blue-eyed Doctor, calm as the sea on a sunny winter day. This side of the brand new sprightly, bouncy, excitable Tigger-Doctor with the spunky hair was one she thought she'd never witness. She missed her arrogant, quiet and calm Doctor that would snuggle up with her on the couch while she watched telly some nights (but would never mention it the next day of course). His pair of hearts were calm as they took turns tapping at her shoulder blades, a sensation that might quickly prove to be addictive.

“If you're straighter, and confident in loosing your arrow, you'll also get the added benefit of the string not biting at your arm there,” the Doctor added, and nodded at the patch of pink flesh on her forearm. “Well, you could also wear an arm guard like everyone else.”

She dropped her head to her chest and giggled. It was as close as he'd get to tell her not to always jump into things without looking first. He cleared his throat and reached around her front to pick up an arrow.

“Now, you might get a better flight out of this by nocking it on the string properly, by the way. See how this fletching is yellow and the others are white? That's the end that faces down,” the Doctor instructed.

He threaded his fingers with hers and together they nocked the arrow. As she expected, he hummed into her ear for her to stay calm and take deep breaths. But with his lips so close to the sensitive nerves on her ear, it was a nigh impossible task. All she craved was for those cool lips of his to inch just a bit closer, to brush her skin and make it sing. Rose curled her toes into her shoes and opened her lips into a ring to release her attempt at a calm breath. But it felt like a farce when he brought her hands up again, straightening her, closing what little gap there was between them as they both stiffened. She felt the metal of his belt buckle sneaking beneath the hem of her shirt. His cheek became flush with hers. And she was certain he was telling her something along the lines of using her cheek as an anchor, whatever that meant. She could easily drop the bow and revel in his nose nuzzling her temple. She actually did make an effort to stay calm, but her heart pounding in her chest, desperate in every way to make its presence known, was doing nothing to lend itself to the task.

They pulled back on the string together, but after the first couple inches the Doctor gave Rose the slack, letting her feel her own strength that he spoke of. He kept her arm stable as she pulled back, and whispered for her to take one deep breath in. She complied, letting the crisp cocktail of his aftershave and hair gel engulf her senses. One deep breath. She could manage that, even with every muscle from her waist up (including her heart) trembling wildly.

“Both eyes open, you need your depth perception,” the Doctor added. Rose could swear she heard him chuckling under his breath as these words had her sucking in the rest of hers. At any rate, she filled her lungs with a steep breath as his hands began to make a slow retreat. “And release.”

Rose let her fingers fly with a puff of air, emptying her lungs like a bellows. Just as her tingling skin began to feel the loss of the Doctor's touch so acutely, Rose blinked and heard the low thrum of the bow's limbs and string. It vibrated through both hands, sending a quake all the way to her neck and down her spine. The hiss of the arrow as it flew was a sweet song in her ears. It sounded _right_ like nothing she'd tried before had. But it couldn't compare to the particular thwack attributed to the arrow piercing her target.

“Doctor, I did it!” Rose cheered, dropping the bow as she turned around to leap into his arms. “Look, I did it!” she crowed as she wrapped her arms about his neck.

The Doctor replied with a prideful hum into her neck while returning her embrace full force. He never turned down her hugs, and Rose always felt his warm energy buzzing into every inch of skin they shared. He never belittled even her smallest triumphs. Though he probably did most of the work, he made her feel like a star when he beamed right back at her. And if all she had to do to earn a sweet little kiss pecked onto her neck was properly shoot with a bow and arrow, she'd be making a purchase right then and there. Maybe that was a little silly. And he probably thought she didn't notice, at least until she gasped against his shirt collar.

And after dragging him through that weapons shop and making him buy a sleek black recurve bow with a matching quiver and arrows, all Rose could think about was wanting more, craving more, _needing_ more. Not of the bow and arrows. Sure, there was nothing quite so cathartic as getting to know the bow and becoming one with the deadly weapon as she improved her form and aim. But she could do without it if it meant having him close. Rose began to think up all of the skills that the Doctor could instruct her in that would involve close contact. What could she do to earn more of those sneaky celebratory kisses (no matter how she managed to earn that first one)?

It hadn't occurred to her that maybe the Doctor wanted it too, and just needed an excuse. It had only been a short week since his regeneration. And though he must have known Rose was enjoying the change, she felt just a slight pang of guilt as he hugged the stuffing out of her that day. Maybe he needed to feel accepted, maybe his words on the Sycorax ship about her abandoning him were heartfelt. It all came together perfectly as Rose relaxed on their blanket with a slumbering Doctor cuddled up to her while she admired the stars above. He might never admit to it, but the Doctor did so much for her that he hated doing just to see her smile. And maybe she was looking too much into this little moment. But it couldn't be a coincidence, she thought, when the man who abhorred weapons instructed her in using one.

It was never easier to be close to him, not that she ever needed an excuse. But for the first time in a while, in a moment free of adrenaline, celebration and fear, Rose wriggled into the Doctor's arms and it felt just right. The best sort of comfort came from enjoying him being close, having him wrap her up in his arms and legs even in his sleep, and knowing that it came from just their shared bond. They had so few moments where Rose was free to enjoy just how perfectly in the vast number of ways they could find themselves tangled up in one another. She decided right then wasn't the time for not coming to this conclusion sooner. Every thought of the future, every touch of her skin to his, every breath shared between them, _everything_ became enveloped in pure Doctor, and Rose wouldn't have it any other way.

 

 


End file.
